Magazine

No accident

The flight attendant leaned over my seat. “May I get you something to drink?” “I’ll have coffee,” I answered. Remarkable. Even astounding. Were those words coming out of my mouth?

The year was 1967. It was a time in my life when I eagerly grasped at any excuse to have a drink. It was five o’clock on a sunny May afternoon. I was on an airplane returning from a Mexican vacation. What could have been more inviting than a cocktail or glass of wine?

-- Janet T.

Leesburg, Virginia, USA

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